


i'm just a teenage dirtbag baby, like you

by dj jiggle juice (therestisconfetti)



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Bechloe Week 2019, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 17:03:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19949761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therestisconfetti/pseuds/dj%20jiggle%20juice
Summary: As far as Beca’s concerned, she isn’t even sure why someone like Chloe would give her the time of day. Chloe’s practically the school’s sweetheart - co-captain of the cheer squad, good grades, good upbringing, friendly to everyone, probably set to be prom queen - the whole works. People like Chloe are supposed to stay away from people like Beca. People like Chloe steer clear of people like Beca, really.or: Rebel without a cause Beca and All-American cheerleader Chloe have been into each other this entire time and they slowly figure it out





	i'm just a teenage dirtbag baby, like you

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo my plan was originally to have this completed by now, but that clearly did not happen. So instead, here is part one of what (I think) will be a two part fic for Bechloe Week: High School.
> 
> If you've been following me for awhile, you might recognize this concept as the one I started like a year ago which can be found [here](https://backtobasicbellas.tumblr.com/post/174590235408/high-school-au-popular-chloe-and-rebel-without-a) and built off of[here](https://backtobasicbellas.tumblr.com/tagged/hsau/) with moodboards, insta profiles, and all.

Beca honestly can’t wait to be done with high school.

It’s not like she hates her town or where she comes from, not really. It’s more that she can’t wait to be on her own. High school is dumb and filled with stereotypes and stupid drama that Beca doesn’t take part in. She’s always kept to herself for the most part, not needing anyone else besides maybe the occasional Jesse Swanson when he’s not being too annoying or her cousin Emily, but she’s a bright eyed freshman who wants to live the whole “high school experience,” whatever that means.

Sure she tends to get into a little trouble here and there (see: most of the time) and infuriates her teachers when their attempts at discipline go completely over her head, but hey - it’s entertaining to say the least.

“You sure you don’t want a ride to school?” 

Beca turns to see her next door neighbor, Stacie Conrad, twirling her keys around her finger as she looks at Beca curiously.

Stacie moved to the neighborhood when they were eleven, back when basically everyone was friends. They were best friends in middle school, Stacie liking the fact Beca was “extra sassy for a such a small person” and Beca enjoying the fact Stacie “didn’t give a shit” about anyone’s opinions. They started off carpooling to high school together, but that ended when Beca was old enough to drive a motorcycle and work at the record store while Stacie participated in things like AP classes and volleyball.

And Stacie got _really_ hot. It was like one day she was just as average as they came and the next she had boobs and the longest legs Beca’s ever seen. When Stacie comes back from vacation the summer before high school, Beca’s almost convinced that something weird has happened and this is an alternate universe.

(It wasn’t. Stacie just got hot at the most convenient time of their lives.)

They fell into different circles, and that’s fine, really. Beca doesn’t need friends. Stacie’s still nice to her in passing and sometimes their families have dinner together, but they don’t hang out or do things they used to.

Beca lifts her hand and jingles keys of her own. “I’ve got my own ride. You know that,” she reminds the taller girl. 

“Yeah,” Stacie snorts. “That death trap.”

Beca merely rolls her eyes, swinging onto her motorcycle parked in the driveway. “I’ll see you at school, Stacie.”

“Have a wonderful day my little B,” Stacie sing-songs with a teasing smirk before she’s sliding into her car.

“Don’t call me that!” Beca glares through Stacie’s car window.

She sees Stacie laugh as she tosses her backpack into the passenger’s seat. Beca merely rolls her eyes and suppresses the smile on her face as she slips her helmet on and starts her engine before driving to school.

Beca isn’t at all surprised to find her younger cousin Emily waiting on the steps of the school, scribbling away in her notebook. The freshman is so wide-eyed and naive that Beca’s not quite sure how they’re related. Despite that, they get along really well - even if Emily does ramble a little too much at times.

She’s made it her responsibility to take Emily under her wing - kind of - upon entering high school. Beca’s well aware that people know if they even so much as think about touching Emily, they’ll have to deal with her.

(Not that she’s all that threatening at a mere five foot two, but she’s got a resting bitch face that almost made Benji Applebaum pee his pants one time.

Or so the story goes.)

“Hey nerd,” Beca greets as she walks up the stairs, helmet in one hand as she runs her other hand through her wind-tangled hair.

Emily looks up, a bright smile on her face. “Beca!”

She stands up and places her pencil into her notebook before tucking that under her arm, falling into step with the older girl as they enter the building. Beca hates that somehow at fourteen Emily is literally towering over her, a gangly mess of limbs and long hair. It reminds her of Stacie in some ways, how Stacie had always been taller than Beca no matter what.

“You know if you just ride with me to school you wouldn’t have to get here so early,” Beca comments. “How long have you been sitting out there anyway?”

Emily shrugs. “Not long, but you know I can’t. My mom refuses to let me get on that thing.”

Beca rolls her eyes, smirking. “Good old Aunt Kathy.”

“She hates being called that,” Emily reminds her.

“I know.”

Emily just shakes her head, leaning against the set of locker’s next to Beca’s. 

“Are you working after school today?” she asks.

Beca sighs, unlocking her locker before tossing her helmet it and grabbing a binder. “Yeah” she answers, giving Emily a wry smile. “After detention thanks to my stupid history teacher.”

It’s not like she really wants to spend a couple of hours at that run down record shop that gave her a job thanks to Jesse, but really, she’d rather sit behind a counter or stack records than spend an hour sitting in detention dying of boredom and on the verge of ripping her eyeballs out as a source of entertainment.

The younger girl sighs. “Were you skipping class again?”

“Who needs history?”

“Beca,” Emily frowns.

“Emily,” Beca mocks.

“You’re not going to graduate if you keep skipping class and getting detention,” Emily says in a very matter-of-fact voice that irritates Beca.

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. Emily’s looking out for her, she knows that. She knows the kid cares, but the kid’s just too _good_ it drives Beca insane. She’s soft and sweet and incredibly friendly once you get past her shy exterior, but honestly it’s ridiculous how wide-eyed and innocent the girl is.

Emily write songs and is obsessed with taking photos on her polaroid - she has quite a number of Beca either glaring or flipping her off - and does her homework and gets decent grades.

Beca doesn’t know how they’re related at all.

“Listen kid, I’ve been doing this for four years now. I’ll be fine,” she insists as she slams her locker shut.

Beca leans up and ruffles Emily’s hair, making the younger girl’s frown break into a soft smile. It makes the older girl smirk a little.

“I have to get to class,” Emily tells her. “I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Beca quips, her smirk full on now.

Emily laughs, shaking her head as she walks backwards. “I don’t think that’s a good guide.”

The older girl lets out a quiet chuckle, watching as Emily spins and heads off to her class.

She turns on her heels, figuring she still has time to kill - because Emily’s a _nerd_ who likes to get to her classes early - and decides it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to talk to Jesse Swanson before she goes to class. She’s hardly halfway down the hall when a voice stops her.

“Beca!”

It’s soft and sweet, but Beca can recognize that voice anywhere.

A soft smile appears on her face, but it’s quickly turning into a smirk as she spins around.

“Good morning to you too, Beale.”

Chloe’s hair is tied in a loose ponytail with tendrils falling on either side of her face, a yellow bow in her hair that Beca knows has blue letters that read “BHS” embroidered. Her bright blue eyes are shining as she approaches Beca, smile bright as ever.

Beca thinks Chloe’s one of the prettiest beings on this planet.

She wouldn’t say that out loud, though.

Chloe practically skips over to her, both of them falling into step as they walk down the hall. “Are you actually coming to fifth period today or can I dump all my things on your desk?”

A laugh falls from Beca’s lips and she raises her eyebrows as she asks, “What, you miss me or something?”

The cheerleader rolls her eyes, adjusting her grip on her backpack strap. “I’m saying you skip class too much.”

“Oh great first Emily and now you,” Beca groans. “It’s part of my brand, Beale. You know that.”

Chloe giggles, high pitched and angelic. Beca thinks it’s just not fair - how someone like Chloe Beale exists is beyond her.

“Trouble’s your middle name,” Chloe teases with a smile.

Beca gives her a smirk. “Oh you know it.”

Chloe’s smile widens at her, eyes twinkling. Beca doesn’t quite understand her relationship with Chloe, this weird thing where they’re not quite friends but they laugh and smirk and wink at each other like it’s normal.

As far as Beca’s concerned, she isn’t even sure why someone like Chloe would give her the time of day. Chloe’s practically the school’s sweetheart - co-captain of the cheer squad, good grades, good upbringing, friendly to everyone, probably set to be prom queen - the whole works. People like Chloe are supposed to stay away from people like Beca. People like Chloe steer clear of people like Beca, really.

Yet here they are, in the middle of the hallway, talking to each other like it’s the most normal thing in the world. And yeah, Beca notices the way people watch her carefully, knows the way Aubrey Posen - Chloe’s co-captain and very best friend and pain in Beca’s _ass_ \- and other people like her glare at Beca as if she isn’t worthy of even being near Chloe. But Chloe doesn’t look at her like she’s some pariah or that she’s doing this as an act of rebellion. No, she looks at Beca with those stupidly bright blue eyes and laughs at her dry wit and sass and doesn’t give a damn what anyone else thinks about it.

“Chloe, we need to get to class.”

Beca inwardly groans as she hears the sharp warning from none other than Aubrey Posen. The two turn to find Aubrey sending a sharp glare towards Beca before she quirks an eyebrow at Chloe expectantly.

“Posen,” Beca draws out, giving her a wry smile.

Aubrey clears her throat, straightening her posture. “Mitchell.”

“Get that stick out of your ass yet?” Beca asks, ignoring the way Chloe lightly nudges her arm.

The blonde opens her mouth to respond, but the warning bell rings - a loud shriek through the speakers - and she’s quickly turning her attention to Chloe again.

“We’re going to be late!”

Beca rolls her eyes at how dramatic Aubrey is being. God forbid they’re even a minute late to class.

“Coming!” she promises, but Aubrey still stands there tapping her foot impatiently and looking irritated. The redhead sighs softly and turns to Beca. “I’ll see you in fifth period. Promise?”

Beca slowly smirks as she answers, “I guess since you asked. It’s a date.”

Chloe’s smiles at her in response and Beca has to fight to keep the smile threatening to break through off her lips.

She utters a goodbye before she’s quickly running to Aubrey. Beca watches as Aubrey scolds her for something she can’t hear before she continues to walk to her class.

Chloe Beale and her stupidly bright smile is all Beca can think about for most of first period.

* * *

Weekdays at work are admittedly slow.

However, Beca is a broke teenager and her ever-loyal best friend since kindergarten, Jesse Swanson, hooked her up with a job at the record shop he works at. Keeping up her motorcycle isn’t exactly cheap, and the hours are pretty flexible, so Beca thinks there are worse places in the world she could be.

When she walks in an hour later than usual - thanks to wasting an hour sitting in detention doing absolutely nothing - to find Jesse already behind the counter and Emily scouring through the stacks.

“Hey nerds,” she greets as she heads straight to the back room to dump her backpack and helmet by Jesse’s things.

Emily’s head pops up from her current set of records and she beams. “Hello, my delinquent cousin.”

“How fun was detention today?” Jesse asks, a playful look in his eye.

Beca rolls her eyes at both of them, letting out a snort before she joins them back in the front.

“Kid,” she addresses Emily. “You’re here so much you might as well be an employee.”

She’s pretty sure Emily has popped into the record store almost every time Beca has a shift. Sometimes, she’ll bring other friends, but most of the time she rides with Jesse - because he has a _car_ that she’s allowed to ride in - and stays either until Jesse’s off or her mother finally comes to pick her up.

Most of the time, she just wanders around the store, inspecting various records she’s interested in and sometimes talking Beca into playing certain songs over the speakers. Other times, she actually helps Beca organize and sort records.

The kid’s an angel; Beca doesn’t really get it.

Emily shrugs, picking up a vinyl. “You work in a cool place.”

“The _coolest,_ ” Jesse corrects from behind the counter.

Beca shakes her head at them, grabbing a stack of records on the counter and beginning to sort through them. She’s only halfway done with her current pile when the door opens and she hears a group of girls walk in.

“Jesse, can you-” she begins, but the voice she hears kills the end of her sentence.

“Well well well, look who’s actually at work.”

Beca’s head snaps up immediately, and there’s a slight shift in her demeanor when her eyes fall on none other than Chloe Beale.

“I’m always at work when I’m supposed to be,” Beca replies with a quirk of her eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Beale.”

“Oh here we go,” she hears Jesse mutter under his breath.

She resists the urge to elbow him before he walks towards the register where Emily is sitting.

Chloe’s eyes light up in a teasing manner, the playful smile never leaving her lips as she says, “Oh, so you show up to work but not to school? Interesting.”

“Yeah whatever,” Beca replies with a roll of her eyes.

Chloe’s smile turns into a full grin when Beca looks at her, it takes everything in the brunette to not swoon at the sight. She hates how she herself has fallen into the play of her high school’s sweetheart, but hey, Beca has _eyes_. Who can blame her?

And it goes like that for another fifteen minutes, Beca all smirks and quick one-liners and Chloe leaning over the table stacked with records to talk to her. Beca doesn’t know when they got so good at this, good at the back and forth between them like it’s their second language, but she likes it.

She likes how Chloe looks at her like she wants to hear what Beca has to say, and how she doesn’t take offense to Beca’s sarcasm and wit. She likes when Chloe surprises her with her own comments and winks to the point that sometimes Beca’s unsure if Chloe knows just what she’s doing.

“Chloe, we gotta go!”

The two of them turn their heads to find Stacie with a record in her hand and her wallet still out. She has this amused smile on her lips as she looks at them, as if she knows something they don’t.

(Beca resists the urge to scowl at her.

Out of love, of course.)

“Bree wants us to come over soon, remember?”

“Right,” Chloe says assuredly, looking back at Beca with that damn smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Beca.”

Beca smirks. “No promises, Beale.”

With that, Chloe’s eyes light up in satisfaction before she turns and follows Stacie out of the record shop.

“Bye little B!” Stacie calls. “See ya, Jesse.”

“Fuck you, Conrad!” Beca shouts back.

“Bye nicer Beca,” Stacie says to Emily as she walks out the door.

Chloe nudges her playfully and says, “Bye Emily, I’ll see you in art class.”

Emily smiles sweetly at both of them and waves.

When they leave, Emily and Jesse both stare at Beca expectantly.

“What?” she asks.

Jesse tilts his head just a little when he asks, “Ever notice how Chloe always comes in here yet never buys anything?”

Beca shrugs. “Stacie bought something.”

Jesse snorts. “Yeah, this is way over your head.”

Beca settles for glaring at him from across the room.

* * *

Beca isn’t really big on parties if she’s being honest.

Being social hasn’t really been her thing, and getting drunk with her fellow classmates just sounds like an absolute disaster if you ask her.

But yet here she is on a Saturday night at someone’s house party she can’t remember the name of.

If anyone asks, it’s Emily’s fault. She was apparently approached by Chloe and Stacie in her art class and invited to said party and was told she can invite her friends. So it’s not much of a shock in retrospect when she’s prancing up to Beca’s locker in between classes with a wide-eyed, excited expression.

“Come with me,” Emily requests with a pout. “It’ll be fun.”

“House parties aren’t my thing kid,” Beca tells her, shutting her locker firmly. 

“Please?” Emily almost whines. “Chloe said we should go.”

Beca quirks an eyebrow. “Okay one, Chloe lives for that type of shit. She’s little miss popular if you haven’t noticed. And two, she did _not_ say we both should come.”

But Emily nods, her puppy look still ever-present on her face. “She did.”

Beca doesn’t believe her.

(Except she does, because when she’s leaving fifth period Chloe asks, “So I’ll see you Friday?” with those big blue eyes and a hopeful expression, and who is Beca to deny her?)

So here she is, taking her sweet time sipping whatever the hell is inside of her red solo cup.

It’s obvious though upon her arrival that no one ever expected her to show up, ripped black jeans and her leather jacket recognizable almost anywhere in this town. She notices the stares, watches the way people try to process this new information. She watches as people mumble - not so quietly, Beca notes, because their drunk - about this appearance.

She ignores them and forges on though, because she’s never quite been one to give a fuck about other people and their opinions.

Emily was dragged along by Stacie almost immediately upon being spotted, telling her she just _had_ to come meet some of the underclassmen on the cheer squad. Stacie had teasingly offered Beca to come along too, but Beca had given her a “bite me” and Stacie had given her a red solo cup inn return and told her to “drink the fuck up.”

So Beca leans against the wall of the kitchen and watches everyone else, taking in the scene before her. She watches the people she sits in classes with get plastered and play beer pong or dance so awkwardly it almost makes Beca physically cringe.

And Beca tries not to let herself be disappointed when she doesn’t spot a specific redhead in the crowd, that she isn’t drawing everyone’s attention everywhere she goes. She leans against the wall and sips her drink - which tastes horrible by the way, what the fuck did Stacie put in it? - and tries to make it seem like she isn’t actively looking for anyone.

“Oh my god! You made it!”

Beca’s head snaps to the sound of the voice she’s come to recognize rather quickly. Chloe is making her way out of parted crowd, a big smile on her face and eyes focused on Beca. She’s not sporting any sort of school color-themed attire at all tonight; instead she’s wearing a tight pair of distressed jean shorts and a fitted top that cuts off right below her belly button. Honestly, Beca hates how _good_ this All-American good girl look is for Chloe.

“How’d you know I’d be here?” Beca teases as Chloe approaches her.

Chloe laughs softly, coming to a stop in front of her. “Glad Emily brought you along.”

“ _I’m_ the one who brought her here,” Beca points out with a roll of her eyes.

Chloe takes a sip out of her own cup before she scoffs. “As if she’d get on the back of that death trap of yours.”

Beca gives her a playful scowl. “Don’t call my ride a death trap, Beale.”

(She leaves out the part where _Jesse_ technically drove them in his car, because, well, details.)

“I would _never_ get on that thing,” Chloe tells her seriously, but her face is playful and light and maybe she’s prettier under these kitchen lights.

“Maybe one day,” Beca teases with a smirk.

“Never,” Chloe corrects.

They both chuckle softly before sipping their respective drinks. Chloe hops onto the kitchen counter after a moment and pats the open space next to her, beckoning Beca to join her.

Beca quirks an eyebrow as she follows suit. “Shouldn’t you be busy socializing or whatever?”

She’s not stupid; she knows Chloe is the definition of a social butterfly. She floats between social groups with ease and she’s so damn likeable that people just can’t get enough of her. The _last_ person Beca thinks Chloe should be spending her time with at a party like this is well, herself.

“I’m socializing right now,” Chloe tells her cheekily, raising her eyebrows. “With you.”

Beca has to let herself laugh at that one, mainly because she isn’t quite sure what to do with herself. Her automatic response is to say something snarky back, but Chloe is looking at her with a bright smile and genuinely looks like there’s no place she’d rather be.

She only allows a roll of her eyes as she replies, “I’m not the social type.”

Chloe leans towards Beca, eyes twinkling like she knows a secret she just can’t wait to tell as she says softly, “I think you like a selective group of people.”

Despite the fact Chloe is so close and Beca can catch a whiff of her perfume mixed with the alcohol she’s drinking, the brunette manages to stay collected, quirking an eyebrow up paired with a smirk.

“What makes you so sure, Beale?”

She mentally pats herself on the back for being so smooth, her voice low and even.

Chloe does this thing where she bites her lip and smiles, like she’s just a _little_ shy and it almost kills Beca right then and there.

“You’re social when you’re with me.”

And the way Chloe’s tone softens makes it feel like it _means_ something, but Beca can’t quite figure out exactly what that is.

So she deflects.

“Everyone’s social around you,” she shrugs.

“Chloe!”

They both turn their heads to find a lanky guy holding two beer bottles in his hands looking at her with a drunken smile.

Beca vaguely recognizes him from school, but it’s obvious he’s an athlete with his varsity jacket. She resists the urge to scowl. Why on earth does Chloe have to be so god damn likable?

“I need my favorite beer pong partner so I can kick everyone’s ass!” he tells her with a grin.

Chloe laughs, grinning right back at him. “I’ll be right there.”

He gives her a head nod of satisfaction before pouring the remnants of one of his bottles into his mouth and turning away. Beca scoffs quietly.

Chloe hops off the counter and looks at Beca with that stupid smile of hers.

“I’m glad you came,” she tells Beca with genuine appreciation.

Beca gives her a smirk. “Couldn’t let my fans down.”

Chloe laughs at that, full of life and happiness as she gives Beca one last look before she’s chasing down that guy and wandering off to the beer pong table.

Beca takes a sip of her drink and tries to figure out when she’d gotten so damn soft for a _cheerleader._

* * *

Somehow - by no surprise, really - Beca finds herself leaning against the lockers next to Chloe’s, entertaining the girl as she pulls out her books.

“Did you have fun with your jock boy toy this weekend?” Beca teases.

Chloe shakes her head with a smile, giving Beca a side glance as she says, “He’s not my boy toy.”

Beca shrugs. “He could be.”

“Shut up,” Chloe deadpans, rolling her eyes.

Beca lets out a low chuckle, leaning back against the row of lockers next to Chloe’s.

“How come you never have a boyfriend, Beale?” she asks. “The guys are all over you around here.”

Chloe grabs her textbook from her locker, raising an eyebrow at Beca as she replies, “Who said I was exclusively interested in guys?”

Beca definitely wasn’t expecting _that_ response.

Her quick tongue and smooth wit is nowhere to be found. She can’t even formulate a single word before Chloe is shutting her locker and gives Beca that look with twinkling eyes and a slight smirk that just about drives Beca crazy.

The brunette can only stare in shock after Chloe spins around and walks away from her locker towards her next class.

//

The cold is settling in rather quickly this time of year, but Beca doesn’t really notice.

She doesn’t notice much when she’s bundled up in her black leather and zooming around town on her motorcycle.

Her boss at the record store was being extra generous today and let Beca out of her after school shift earlier than usual, so Beca takes this time as a joy ride around town. She likes how when she’s driving, she doesn’t have to think about anything. She just thinks about keeping herself in control, feeling the thrill of going a little faster than she should at times, and smirking when people stare at her.

It’s when she’s on her way home, just a few streets down from her school when she slows down.

There’s a redhead with her arms wrapped around herself, walking down the street. She’s dressed in jeans and one of her cheer hoodies, but it’s obvious she’s still feeling the cold weather

Beca recognizes Chloe immediately and decides to take a last minute turn to catch up with her.

Chloe hears her almost right away, and she turns to watch Beca pull up to where she’s walking before coming to a complete stop.

Beca leans her motorcycle sideways, balancing carefully as she lifts her helmet to look at Chloe.

“Beca,” Chloe says, a pleased tone in her voice. “Hey.”

Beca quirks an eyebrow at her. “What are you doing, Beale?”

She shrugs. “Walking home.”

“In this weather?” Beca gapes, eyebrows raising towards her forehead. “You’re insane.”

Chloe shrugs, and there’s something in her slight grimace that tells Beca there’s more to the story - that Chloe doesn’t _actually_ enjoy walking home in the freezing cold - but she chooses not to pry in this moment. Instead, she makes a different decision.

“Get on, Beale.”

Chloe blinks. “What?”

Beca nods towards the back of her motorcycle. “Get on,” she repeats. “I’m taking you home.”

“There’s no way,” Chloe insists. Her eyes are wide and she’s looking at Beca like she’s crazy. “You’re going to kill me on that thing!”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Beca lifts her helmet off her head and holds it up for show, giving Chloe a look.

“I have a helmet for you.”

Chloe looks at the helmet long and hard before shifting her gaze back at Beca, who is giving her an expectant look. It takes another second, but finally Chloe lets out a defeated sigh and Beca knows she’s in. Chloe reluctantly takes the helmet and pulls it on before she’s climbing onto the back of Beca’s motorcycle.

Beca scoots forward, but even then Chloe is so _close_ to her and Beca thinks this isn’t a bad way for her afternoon to go - her high school’s all-American girl on the back of her bike. She’s so close that Beca can feel the way Chloe shivers behind her.

Knowing Chloe will only get colder when they start moving, Beca shrugs off her leather jacking, turning to hand it to Chloe.

“You need to wear this,” she states.

Chloe scoffs. “I’m fine, Beca.”

“You’re freezing,” Beca states, quirking an eyebrow at Chloe as if to dare her to argue.

Chloe sighs, knowing it’s yet again another battle Beca is willing to stubbornly sit through if it means she’ll win. Beca hides her smile when Chloe gives in and takes her jacket, pulling it on.

She turns around quickly, trying not to drool over how _good_ Chloe looks in leather.

“Hang on,” she says as she revs up her engine.

Chloe’s arms slid around Beca’s middle and Beca inhales sharply, biting her lip as Chloe’s front settles against her back.

How Beca makes it there without crashing is a mystery to her, really. All she’s focused on is remembering to breathe in and out and to not react when Chloe tightens her grip on Beca just a little tighter at time. She tries not to think about how Chloe’s legs are resting just outside of hers or how when they turn a corner she watches a glimpse of Chloe’s red hair or a whiff of her perfume.

In short, Beca manages not to have a complete gay meltdown on their ride to Chloe’s house.

“Welcome home,” Beca smirks though Chloe can’t see. “You made it in one piece.”

Chloe laughs softly, the sound melodic behind Beca, as she releases her tight grip. The lack of warmth is immedately noticeable to the brunette.

“Thank you,” she says, leaning over for what Beca thinks is a hug but she’s pleasantly surprised when Chloe’s soft lips brush against her cheek.

It hardly lasts for a moment, Chloe pulling away and hoping off before Beca can fully process the action.

“Stay out of trouble,” Chloe tells her, coming into view in front of Beca before she walks into her house and holds out the helmet she’d been wearing.

It’s only then that Beca realizes that Chloe is still wearing her leather jacket, and really, it’s impressive that she doesn’t pass out at the sight of Chloe in _her_ jacket.

The thing is, it’s not a special jacket, really. Beca’s got about five different variations of leather jackets. But this one, on Chloe, might be her new favorite look.

But Beca doesn’t even miss a beat, not when it comes to smooth talk and smirks.

“No promises,” she grins at Chloe in response.

And if she really wanted to, she could ask Chloe for her jacket back, but honestly, the view is just too good from here.

Chloe gives her those pretty eyes and that soft smile one more time before she walks into her home, Beca’s jacket still on. Beca watches her go before she’s revving up her engine and riding down the street.

And if she has a dumb smile the whole way home - well, at least her helmet is covering her face.


End file.
